


-ectomy

by knitbelove (ladymac111)



Series: The happy ending is when things are going to begin for me. [5]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Medical Procedures, POV First Person, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8190487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymac111/pseuds/knitbelove
Summary: Simon makes the life-changing decision to say goodbye to his wings and tail. Permanently.
Penny has mixed feelings. Baz isn't happy. But Simon knows himself.





	

I don't remember when exactly I decided.

It probably wasn't one moment; like all huge life decisions, it was the culmination of hundreds of moments over time. But I know that once it occurred to me that this could be something I actually wanted, I started thinking about it more and more, and one day I realized I knew that it was going to happen. It's only a matter of logistics at this point.

I don't think I'm going to miss them, my wings and tail. I've only had them for three years, and I've never liked them. From time to time I've even hated them. I wonder if I'd hate them more if I let myself.

Jeri, my therapist, says it's understandable that I feel that way. They were the product of trauma. I created them to save the world, and when I was done, they were still there, a horrible reminder of ... all of that. They make me think about it every day. (I don't know if I'd think about it every day if I didn't have them.) She thinks getting rid of them is the right choice for me.

I've already talked to Dr Wellbelove about it too, and he thinks it's a good decision. From a medical standpoint, it's pretty straightforward, apparently; Normals remove unnecessary body parts all the time. Sixth fingers, tonsils, suspicious moles, an appendix. Even necessary but misbehaving parts -- a bad gallbladder, a tumour-riddled thyroid -- all regularly sliced out and discarded.

I don't need any of these extra parts, I never use them, I don't _want_ them. They're a burden that nobody else seems to understand. My decision was pretty easy.

The hardest part of getting them taken off is going to be telling everyone. Penny's first, obviously; she's my best friend, and we live together -- she's literally the person I'm closest to in this whole world.

But how do you start that conversation? Over breakfast before class? "Oh, bee-tee-dubs, Pen, I've decided to have elective amputation." She'd hit the roof. She probably will anyway.

I figured over food is actually the best way to do it, though, sometime when we're having an evening in. So tonight I'm making her favourite biryani, and she'll be home about six, after she gets done with her laser optics lab. I don't know if she's guessed that I'm trying to tell her something.

The spell she cast on my wings and tail this morning wears off while I'm working in the kitchen. It's been lasting longer and longer, as time has gone on, but still always gives out after a while. They fade suddenly into existence, like a bad PowerPoint transition; I always notice when they start casting shadows again.

My heart is pounding when I hear her footsteps coming up the stairs, and she lets herself in with **I'm home!** instead of using her key, like she always does. "Ooh, smells great, Simon!"

I force a smile. "Thanks. It's just about ready, if you want to sit down."

"Yeah, just a minute." She goes into her room to put her bag away, then comes into the kitchen and takes down a pair of bowls. I dish up our dinner, and we sit down at our tiny square kitchen table to eat it.

She takes a bite, and closes her eyes in bliss. "Oh, Simon, I know I tell you so every time you make this, but it's so bloody good I didn't think it was possible."

"I don't get tired of hearing it." It _is_ damn good -- it's a great recipe, that I got from her mother and tweaked slightly. (My main change is doubling the amount of ghee -- never a bad choice. And when I can afford it, like tonight, I get lamb.)

"So how've you been? Had a nice Friday?"

"Yeah, good."

"Baz coming over tomorrow?"

"Mm-hmm, in the afternoon when he gets off work."

She gives me a little look. "He's staying over?"

I can't help smiling. "Probably, yeah. Like always."

She rolls her eyes and bites back a grin. "Usual warnings apply."

"Yeah, I know, trousers required outside my room." I'm getting nervous so I think it's time for me to steer the conversation. "So, um. Penny. There's something I want to tell you."

She sets her fork on the table with a little clatter, eyes wide. "You're pregnant."

"What? No." I frown. "I'm being serious, Penny."

She blinks at me a couple of times, as though she's finally looking closely enough to realize I'm not joking. "Oh, wow, you are. Sorry. What is it?"

I take a deep breath; my wings tremble a little, and my tail is flopping around, agitated, still totally out of my control, even after all this time. I can see her trying not to watch them. "I'm getting my extra bits removed."

Her mouth falls open, and she's silent for a long minute, which is not a thing that happens often with her. "You mean ... your wings? Your tail?"

I nod. "Yeah. All of it."

She shakes her head minutely. "Why?"

"You know why."

She stares for a moment, then nods. "Yeah, I ... I guess I do."

I didn't really plan anything to say after this, so I look down into my dinner, think about taking a bite, but my stomach feels twitchy. Penny speaks again.

"Are you sure?"

I look up at her. "Yeah."

"Really?"

" _Yes_."

"Because this isn't something you should--"

"Penny," I interrupt, slightly too forcefully, "are you listening to yourself?"

She looks hurt. "I just don't want you to rush into this. It's permanent."

"Of course it's _permanent_ , that's the point of doing it."

"It just seems _hasty_ , Simon."

I drop my fork on the table and cross my arms over my chest as though that'll help me hold the anger in. "Christ, Penny, why can't you accept that I've thought this through?!"

"Because you've never mentioned it before!"

"So now I'm supposed to tell you every thought that passes through my head?"

"Merlin!" She puts her hands on her forehead, then slaps them down on her thighs. "I'm just -- I'm just trying to understand."

"I don't need you to understand, I just need you to listen."

"Simon, do you know me at all? I _have_ to understand."

I stand up and stretch out my wings -- they touch the walls on either side of the kitchen. "Look at me, Penny." She does, and her eyes are wide. My tail is lashing around; if I take a couple steps back it'll whack against the lower cupboards probably. "This isn't me. This has never been me, this wasn't _supposed_ to be me." My heart is racing and I feel the tears prickling in my eyes. "I don't want this. I've never wanted it. I just want it gone."

She shakes her head. "Why now?"

I shrug, defeated, and I feel a tear slip down my cheek. "I just ... I can't live with it any more."

The legs of Penny's chair squeak on the floor as she pushes it back, and she stands up and comes over, wraps her arms around me, leans her head on my chest. "I'm sorry I didn't know."

I put my arms around her shoulders and let go, just for a moment, releasing a tiny bit of all the flood of emotion that's built up inside me, everything I've been holding in.

We stand quietly for a couple minutes before she loosens her grip and steps back, and I see her eyes go over my shoulder, to my wings. "I guess it'll be nice for you to not have to have me hide them before you go out."

I nod, and wipe the tears off my cheeks. "That's part of it. I want to be able to be independent. Especially since you might be heading off elsewhere after you graduate." We've talked about that a little, since she's starting to apply to graduate schools. Her first choice is the University of Chicago, which is four thousand miles away.

"You don't think you and Baz will move in together?"

I blush a little -- I've talked about that with Baz, but not extensively. We've established that we both _want_ to live together, but we haven't got to details. "I mean, yeah, probably. But I don't want to be dependent on him to, like ... go buy milk in the evening. Or go for a run."

"Like you are now, on me."

I glance away from her. "Yeah."

She puts her hand on my arm. "I understand, Simon. I know it sucks for you to be trapped at home when I'm not around. And, I mean ... it's not that I have a problem with doing the spell for you, because I don't, but I won't be upset when I don't have to any more."

I look at her again, and try to smile. "You said _when_."

She smiles gently, and I feel myself relax. "Yeah," she says. "I guess it's probably a good idea for you to do this."

I take her hand. "Thank you, Penny. It means a lot to have your support."

"Of course." She gives my fingers a squeeze before she lets go. "Let's finish dinner, biryani this good shouldn't just sit there."

"Sounds good to me."

We sit down again, and I watch Penny enjoy another mouthful before I pick up my fork. "So, it occurs to me," she says, "that you were trying to butter me up with this."

"Did it work?"

She cracks a grin. "Yeah."

  


***

  


Baz arrives punctually as always, at three-fifteen. Penny is studying at the kitchen table, but she picks up her books when he knocks and has disappeared into her room by the time I open the door to him. He gives me a little kiss as he steps in, then pulls off his jacket and drops his bag where he always does. He's still wearing his work uniform and has an aroma of coffee hanging around him, and he hands me a little paper bag. "Brought you something."

"What's this?"

"Jaffa cake."

I peek inside the bag -- it's only a tiny bit squished, and it looks great, but I don't think I can eat it right now. I set it on the table and take his hand. "Come sit."

He gives me an uncertain look, but doesn't resist when I lead him to the couch.

"So, um." I put my hands on my knees. "I've got some news to share with you."

"News?" he says, raising his eyebrows. "What sort of news?"

I take a deep breath. "I've decided I'm going to get my wings and tail removed."

He's silent for a long moment, staring at me in horrified shock. Which is not the reaction I was hoping for. As the silence stretches I get worried -- this isn't how Penny took it. I'm starting to think he's not okay with this.

Finally he finds his voice, but it comes out scratchy. "What? How -- how can you -- how can you _do_ that?"

I have no idea what he means by that. "It's just surgery."

"I know it's _surgery_ , Snow, what I mean is--" He's talking too loudly, stops himself. "How can you possibly make that decision?"

I shake my head. "I don't -- it's pretty simple, honestly. I want them gone, so I'm getting them taken off. I don't understand why you're making a big thing of it."

A tear slips down Baz's cheek, and he wipes it away roughly. "It's just...." He lets out an angry sigh. "It's not _fair_. That you can just ... go under the knife and be human again."

Not _fair?_ "What? What are you talking about?"

"You!" he spits. "You get so many things that I can't have."

His anger is starting to get to me. "What the _fuck_ are you on about?"

"You're _alive_!" he shouts, and the tears fall again. He doesn't move to wipe them away this time. "You just -- you can just get pieces taken off and be normal. I'll _never_ be normal, Snow. I'll never be _human._ "

"This is about you being a vampire?" I say, astonished, and he flinches. "This isn't _about you,_ Baz! None of this is about you, this is about _me_ and trying to make my life a little less fucked up."

"We were fucked up _together_ ," he says, and he sounds like he's trying not to cry.

"This isn't _about you_ ," I say again, and I put my hands on his shoulders. "Baz, please, it isn't, I promise."

He slaps my arm away and stands up, takes a stumbling step away from the couch. " _Fuck_ you, Snow."

"Baz--"

"Fuck. You!"

He pulls the door open, stomps into the corridor, and slams it behind him. I hear him clattering down the stairs at top speed.

He forgot his jacket and bag. It's chilly and windy outside, and he was planning to stay over tonight.

I'm so off-balance from unexpected anger that I don't think I can bring myself to go after him.

I get up slowly and go into my bedroom, pushing the door mostly shut before I lie down on my bed and bury my face in my pillow.

A minute later there's a gentle knock at my door, and I hear it swing open.

"Go away, Penny," I groan.

"As if," she says, stepping across the room and sitting down at my feet. "What's his problem?"

"He doesn't think I should do it."

"Fuck him, it's not his choice."

I roll onto my side. "Is it so wrong for me to want him to support me in this?"

"Not at all," she says. "But I don't think you should be surprised. This is Baz we're talking about."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Penelope."

She throws her arms out to the sides. "I'm sorry, Simon, but your boyfriend is an arse."

She's right, he is and always has been. I tend to forgive him, though, because apparently that's what happens when you're in love with someone. But he's not usually this mean. "I wish he wasn't."

"I know." She puts her hand on my calf. "But then he wouldn't be Baz."

I smash my pillow over my face. Penny gives my leg another pat and then gets up, and shuts my door behind her when she leaves.

Eventually I decide that moping isn't doing anything for me. I do actually have homework I could get started on, so I find my English literature anthology and try to focus on reading. It's insanely difficult; my brain feels like it's full of wool.

I've made it through about five pages when I hear a knock at the door to the flat, and then Penny's treads across the floor and the soft squeak of the hinges.

"Hello," she says, flatly, and I know it's him.

"Hi." Baz is quiet, hesitant. There's a pause. "Um ... can I come in?"

"I don't know," she says, defensively. "You'll have to ask Simon."

There's a heavy pause. I stay where I am. Finally Baz clears his throat. "Where is he?"

"In his room."

Another pause, and then Baz makes a frustrated noise. "Snakes' sake, Bunce, aren't _we_ friends?"

"Yes, but this isn't about you and me, this is about you and Simon and how you were a cock and then stormed out, so it's not up to me."

"Ugh, _fine_." I can hear a little bit of motion, and then--

My phone rings, and it startles me into dropping my book. I pull the phone out of my pocket, and of course I knew it was him, but it's still kind of a surprise to see his photo and _Baz Grimm-Pitch_ on the screen. (He looks so happy in the photo.) I let it ring for a few more seconds before I answer. "Hello."

He makes a relieved sort of sound; I can hear it from the other room, and then a split second delayed through the phone. "Simon, I'm sorry."

I bite my lip. I don't really know what I want to say to him.

Apparently I'm quiet too long, because he speaks again, sounding uncertain. "Simon?"

"Yeah, I'm here," I say, and I get up off my bed. "This is stupid, I'm hanging up."

"Simon, wait, I--"

He cuts off when I open my door; he's holding his phone up to his ear and looks kind of terrified. Penny's standing in front of him, arms crossed, and she glances over her shoulder at me. I stay in the little hallway between the bedrooms, and flap my wings once, letting them fill the space behind me. Baz can talk to me from here. I lift my chin and give him what I hope is a challenging look.

"I'm sorry," he says again. He leans his shoulder against the door frame, and Penny moves slightly to the side, keeping in front of him, though he can see easily over her head. "I was rude and I'm sorry."

"You _were_ rude," I say, and he looks down, ashamed.

"I know."

"You were pretty bloody awful."

"Yeah. I was, and I shouldn't have been, I had no right."

"Damn right you didn't."

He wraps his arms around his chest and looks up at me. "I'm really sorry, Simon. I don't want to fight about this."

"Oh, really? Because I don't either, but I'm not the one who started the fight."

"I said I'm _sorry,_ " he says.

"Maybe that's not good enough!" I say, and I can hear my voice raising. "Being sorry doesn't undo what you said!"

His expression is starting to turn angry. "What will undo it, then? Should I go back in time and stop myself from coming over today? Because I had a legitimate reaction, Simon, and you need to understand that this is how I feel."  I hate it when he says my first name like that, with condescension rather than with love.

"It's not _about you_!" I shout. "I don't give a shit about your reaction! This is about me, and about all that _fuck_ that happened with the Mage. This is about me finally trying to take control of my own life, and I don't feel like it should be too much to ask for my boyfriend to just _support me_ without being a selfish prick!"

"Did you seriously just call me a selfish prick?!" he says, horrified. " _I'm_ the selfish one??"

"Yes!" I spit. "Listen to yourself!"

He's beginning to look dangerous, but Penny is standing her ground in front of him. She's never been afraid of him, even when she maybe should be. I'm glad she's between us right now, because otherwise I might give in to my urge to punch him in the mouth. "Take a step back, Pitch," she murmurs, almost too softly for me to hear, and Baz lowers his eyebrows menacingly.

"Why should I?"

"I said _step back._ "

He stares her down for a long moment, then shifts his weight backwards slightly, and I can hear a single footfall. "Better?" he sneers.

"Yes. Thank you."

He looks up at me again, and after a moment his stormy expression softens. "I'm sorry. About everything."

I consider that a moment. I'm less angry now, but.... "I don't know if I believe you."

He sighs in frustration and crosses his arms over his chest again. "I suppose that's understandable. But I am sorry. And I know this is your decision, but I just ... I can't help feeling upset."

"You're going to have to figure out how to get over that."

He frowns. "I know. Can I come in, now?"

Penny turns to look at me, silently asking my permission. I'm still angry, but I don't want to be, any more. I nod, and she steps aside, then closes the door behind Baz. She looks at me again. "You still want me here?"

I consider a moment, but then shake my head. "No, it's okay. Thank you."

"Any time."

I step out of the little hallway, into the sitting room proper, and pull my wings out of the way so she can get back to her room. She goes inside, and closes the door, but not all the way; I know she's still going to listen, and she'll come out and referee if she thinks she has to. It's a comforting thought.

Baz is standing awkwardly just inside the door, picking at one of his fingers. He looks up when I take a couple steps toward him, closing the distance between us to a couple metres. "Hey, Simon."

"Hi." I put my hands in my pockets. "I'm still angry. So you know."

"I know. And I'm sorry, I really am."

"I know," I sigh. "I know."

"I wish I knew how to make it better."

"Me too."

He steps towards me but suddenly I'm terrified, I can't have him so close. I flap my wings, spread them behind me, filling the room up to the ceiling. "Don't touch me," I gasp.

He stops dead, watching me with wide eyes. "Okay."

I take several deep breaths and back up. I find myself at the couch, and I sit on the arm of it. He's still watching me, obviously nervous. "You okay?"

"No." God, I'm hardly ever okay, it seems like.

He hesitates. "Can I come sit by you?"

I think about that for a moment -- I want to be near him, even though I don't want him near me. "Yeah." I point at the other end of the couch. "There."

He moves carefully, sits and crosses his legs, folding up his limbs, becoming a little smaller. Which it turns out is what I needed, and I allow myself to relax a little more.

We sit quietly for a few minutes, and my mind is spinning, but slower and slower. After a bit Baz starts picking at his finger again, but except for that he doesn't seem too agitated. Finally I decide I'm ready to talk again.

"So. Surgery."

"Yeah," he sighs. "You know, I ... I realized there's another reason I don't want you to get your wings and tail off."

"Another reason?"

"It's even more selfish than the first one."

"What is it?"

He looks down at his hands and bites his lip. "Because I like them. I think they're hot." He sounds almost defensive.

"You think they're _hot_? Like, sexy hot?"

"Yes. They ... they turn me on."

"You honestly _like_ this nonsense?" I'm aware my tone is sort of rude, but I can't change that at the moment. "Why?!"

"Because I'm _disturbed_ ," he sneers, turning his steely grey gaze on me and lifting his chin defiantly. "I'm fucked up, okay? I like things that nobody should like. Not even just that, all kinds of shit."

My brow furrows. "For instance?"

He seems surprised for a moment, then shakes his head. "No, never mind."

"Come on, you can't just leave me hanging. Not if we're really going to talk through this."

He's frowning still, and he looks embarrassed. "Well, I...." He stops, clears his throat; when he speaks again he's very quiet. "I've always wanted to fuck you really roughly."

I almost laugh. "That isn't that weird."

"No," he says, "I mean _really_ roughly. Like, fuck you until you're bleeding and then lick the blood off your arse. And then I want you to do the same to me, until I can't stand the pain."

That is _way_ more than I was expecting, and to be honest it makes me feel slightly sick, though that may mainly be the shock. "Wow."

"I mean, I don't actually _want_ to do that," he says quickly. "I'd never hurt you. But, like ... I've had that thought for a long time."

"Longer than we've been together?"

"Crowley, yes. Since we were fifteen. I mean, at first I just wanted to kiss you and then bite you. But time went along and I got ... creative."

"So this predates the wings and stuff."

"Oh yeah, definitely." He sighs. "Then you went and got those and there was a whole new dimension of weird."

Something occurs to me -- things I never paid attention to before are suddenly obvious. "I think I already knew that you liked them. That they're a turn-on for you."

"I don't suppose there's any sense in denying it."

"I don't think you could if you tried, at this point. You reveal them if they're invisible when we're having sex."

He puts his hands on his face, like he's trying to hide. "Not all the time."

"More often than not."

He takes his hands down, and his face is pink. "So, anyway. Hopefully this answers your question."

"My question?"

"Why I like them. Why I don't want you to get them removed."

"Oh, right." I guess it does answer my question, sort of. It's probably the best answer I'll get, anyway. "You know that's not enough to change my mind."

"I didn't think it would be."

I breathe a sigh, trying to let go of the last bit of anxiety that's still tightening my chest. "So, are we okay now?"

"Yeah," he says quietly. "I want us to be okay. I'm still probably going to have ... feelings about it. But I'll work on that, it's not your fault."

God knows I've got my own problems. I'm glad Baz has realized this is something he can take care of himself, without dumping another thing on me.

I want to be close to him now, I realize, so I climb down off the arm of the couch, and scoot over to sit next to him. He watches while I set my hand on his knee and give it a gentle caress, and then he lays his hand across mine.

"I'm going to get my wings and tail off," I say. "In a month or two. As soon as Dr Wellbelove can schedule it."

He nods, and he looks sad. "All right."

  


***

  


I barely sleep the night before the surgery. I guess it doesn't really matter, because I'm going to be unconscious for a lot of the day, but I spend all that wakeful time terrified.

Baz is there with me, though, which makes it suck slightly less. I don't think he sleeps at all, just holds me in his arms. Kisses me gently when I wake up shaking uncontrollably.

We get up when my alarm goes off absurdly early in the morning, and I'm exhausted. Baz takes a shower first, and then I do, as quickly as I can. It's really weird, showering in the morning, but it'll be a few days before I can again. By the time I'm done Penny's up too, and she casts one last invisibility spell on my wings and tail, this time one that she'll undo when we get to the hospital. I'm not allowed to eat, or even have tea, so we collect our bags and head out.

I don't know how Dr Wellbelove arranged all of this, and so quickly. My surgery's happening at a Normal hospital, with Normal doctors and nurses and only a few mages in attendance. Apparently the Coven have been pretty heavily involved, and they've got someone on site while I'm here to deal with anything that comes up. Baz knows all about it, but I haven't let him tell me. I want to ignore the fact that this is apparently something that affects the entire British World of Mages. I'm not the Chosen One any more and I just want to forget all of that.  That’s why I’m doing this.

They let both Baz and Penny come into pre-op with me, where I change into a scratchy hospital gown and put all my belongings into my backpack, which Baz takes for safekeeping. Penny casts the spell that undoes the one she cast at home, and I stretch my wings one last time before I fold them behind my back on the bed. They're blood-red against the stark white hospital linens. Baz amuses himself for a few minutes by catching the end of my tail in his hand before it twitches away. It makes my heart hurt and I can't watch but I don't tell him to stop. After today he won't be able to do that any more so it doesn't matter.

Dr Wellbelove and my Normal surgeon arrive shortly thereafter. Dr Campbell seems perfectly calm about the dragon-devil in front of him, makes small talk with me and reassures me while a nurse starts my IV. Then he goes to get scrubbed.

Penny and Baz stay for as long as they can before Dr Wellbelove comes back and says they have to leave. Penny looks like she's trying not to look scared, and Baz is wearing a fake smile made of bravado when he kisses me. "See you on the other side."

I squeeze his hand; I'm starting to feel a little drugged already. "See you soon."

Penny gives me a lingering hug, only letting go when Dr Wellbelove clears his throat, and then he escorts both of them out of the little curtained cubicle. Another nurse comes and they wheel me to the operating theatre, where they manhandle me into the position they need to get at the things on my back. By this point I'm hazy enough that I'm not even embarrassed by my nudity or the odd posture, and I fade out of consciousness as soon as they put the oxygen mask over my face.

  


***

  


I wake up feeling heavy, and laying flat on my front. Baz and Penny are both in my line of sight, and Baz leans down and smiles at me when I blink at him. He touches my hand where it's lying close to my face; the IV is still stuck in the side of my wrist, and there's a device taped around my middle finger.

"He's awake again," Baz murmurs, and Penny looks up from her book.

"Hey," she says. "You really with us this time?"

"This time?" I mumble, and they both smile.

"You woke up about half an hour ago," she says. "You weren't really here, though."

"I don't remember that," I say.

Baz is smiling softly at me, still holding my fingers. "I didn't think you would."

"You weren't exactly coherent," Penny says, leaning close. "How are you feeling?"

I don't really know how to answer that. "Okay," I say.

"Any pain?"

"No, but my wings are really stiff."

Penny and Baz shoot a worried look at each other, at which point I realise what I just said.

"Simon," Baz begins, gently, "your wings are--"

"I know," I interrupt, and I'm slurring a little. I close my eyes because I can't bear the look they're giving me. "Sorry, I guess I forgot for a minute. Blame the drugs."

"Phantom limb," Baz whispers, I think to Penny.

"Yeah," she agrees.

But they are stiff, and they're aching from it, and I know they aren't actually there any more but that only seems to make it worse. I keep trying to shake them out and nothing happens and they just feel stiffer and stiffer. I'm glad my control over my tail was never voluntary, and that I can't feel it right now.

  


***

  


I must fall asleep again, because when I next open my eyes it's only Penny there, and her hair is down, huge and fluffy around her head, as opposed to last time when she had it pulled back. She looks like she's trying not to doze off while she looks at something on her lap that I can't see -- probably a book, or her phone. She looks over when I move my hand to rub my nose, which feels all dried up on the inside.

"Hey, careful," she murmurs, just as my knuckles touch plastic.

I'm suddenly overwhelmed with confusion. "What..."

"Oxygen line," she says, quickly. "Clipped in your nose there. Leave it be until the nurse comes."

"Why am I on oxygen?"

"It's okay, it's not a big thing. You were just struggling with breathing a bit right after the surgery, so they're keeping you on it for a little while, until you're fully out of the anaesthesia."

"Was it here before?"

She nods, and gives me a gentle smile. "You've had it on since they took the tube out of your throat, they said. I guess you were too drugged out to notice before."

"I guess," I say, and my voice comes out flat.

She puts her hand on my head, brushing my hair off my face.  "Just take it easy, Simon. You're still coming out of it but you're getting better. They'll let us take you home soon, I think."

I close my eyes. Her touch is comforting, and I try to focus on that instead of all the emotions I'm suddenly having that I didn't expect and don't want to deal with.

We stay like that for a while, and I open my eyes when she takes her hand away. A nurse has just arrived, and Baz is right behind her shoulder. He's pulled his hair back now; it's sloppy and he looks exhausted. It occurs to me I don't think he had any blood this morning, or last night.

The nurse pulls the curtain shut behind her, then steps over to me, and Penny scoots out of the way. "How are we feeling, Simon?" the nurse says, far too brightly.

I sigh. "Okay."

She checks the things I'm hooked up to. "Feel like you're breathing okay?"

I nod. "Can I take the thing off?"

"Yes, in a moment here. It can go back on if it needs to but I think you'll be fine now. I'm just going to check your incisions first, all right?"

"Yeah."

I close my eyes again while she pulls the blanket down off my shoulders and opens the hospital gown to expose where my wings are -- where they used to be. I don't know what it looks like, and I'm a bit afraid to find out. "Looks good," the nurse says, pulling the gown back over my shoulders. "The one on your bum next. Okay for your friends to be here for this?"

"They've seen my arse before."

I hear Baz snicker, a tight, nervous kind of sound. Penny shushes him. "Keep it together, Pitch."

"Sorry," he says, and he does sound embarrassed.

The nurse lifts the blanket and pulls the gown aside, and there's a brief draft on my backside before she replaces everything. "You're doing fine here. Let's get you on your side, yeah?"

Getting on my side involves lifting myself up on my arms a little bit, which is way more difficult than it ever has been before. But it only lasts a couple moments, and the nurse tucks another pillow under my head, and then I have both arms at my disposal and I pull the clip out of my nose and unhook the lines from my ears.

It feels great to be in a different position, and I can see a lot more of this little curtained cubicle than I could before, plus I'm now feeling more awake than I have all day. Which still isn't particularly much, but it's something, I do actually feel like I'm improving, coming out of it.

Baz has sat down in the chair right beside Penny's, and I give him as much of a smile as I can manage. "How are you guys doing?"

Baz shrugs and looks down at his lap, and doesn't say anything, just bites his lip.

"It's been a long day," Penny says. "And it's only noon."

That's later than I expected. "How long was I in surgery?"

"About an hour and a half, just like they estimated."

"So I've been out for three hours already?"

Penny grimaces, and Baz rubs his eyes. "Yeah," Penny says. "The oxygen thing set you back a little."

"You're doing well now, though," the nurse cuts in; she's finished collecting the oxygen line and putting it away. "Your surgeon will check in in you in about an hour, and if he's happy he'll let you go home."

I sigh and try to wipe off the crusty bits of stuff that are stuck in my eyelashes. "Okay."

The nurse leaves, and Penny stands up. "I'm going to find a toilet," she says. "And then something to eat, I'm starving." She pokes Baz in the shoulder. "You want something?"

"No. Fangs."

She makes a little frustrated noise, and I can't help but agree with her. "Okay. Text me if I miss anything."

He nods, and shifts into the chair she vacated, the one that's closer to me. He looks sad, and too pale. Suddenly I feel like I have to be touching him, and I reach towards him; he takes my hand in his. It feels chilly.

"Hello, love," I murmur.

He glances up at me, and gives me tiny fake smile. "Hello."

"You okay?"

"Sure."

"Baz."

"What do you want me to say?" he groans. "I've been awake for thirty hours and I'm starving."

"You could have got something to eat earlier."

He shakes his head. "Not while you were in surgery. Not while you were poorly after."

I squeeze his hand. "I kinda thought you were getting something just now."

"No. Just going to the toilet."

I don't really know what to say in response to that. I feel like I ought to say something, but I'm still too foggy to come up with anything. I settle for changing the subject. "You look nice with your hair up."

He frowns. "I got sweaty while I was nervous, so Bunce gave me her elastic."

I can't help smiling at that. "That's really cute."

His frown deepens. "It's not cute, it's disgusting."

"No, it's cute," I insist. "And you do look nice with your hair up."

He shakes his head, and a frizzy lock flops free, falling on the side of his face.

"Do you have any blood at my place?" I ask, lowering my voice.

"Yeah. I'll have it when we get you back, I promise."

I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. "Do you really think they'll let me go soon? I feel like I only just woke up."

"Crowley, I hope so. I'm going to lose my mind if I stay here much longer." He smooths his hair down on the top of his head, but it doesn't do anything, the loops and flyaways pop right back up. "I wish they'd have let us be with you right away when you got out of surgery, apparently that's when your lungs issue was happening. We did some healing spells on you when we could, but I think it would've sped things up if we'd have been able to do it sooner."

"Who's we?" I ask. "You and Penny?"

He nods. "And Dr Wellbelove and Lady Ashburnham."

"Lady who?"

"Ashburnham. You know her, she's on the Coven. Very powerful, magickally and politically."

I'm not sure I do know her. I shrug and shift around on the bed a little, but I stop when I think I can feel the stitches on my back starting to pull.

"Comfortable?" he murmurs.

"No."

"Oh."

We lapse into silence. I don't know what to say, and it's clear he doesn't either, and I'm too tired to care. I'm too tired and too uncomfortable and honestly sort of miserable. At the moment I'm regretting my decision to go through with this, if only because it brought me to this moment, and this moment frankly sucks.

After a while Penny gets back, and offers Baz the remaining half of her sandwich. His response is a silent scowl, and she rolls her eyes as she tucks it in her backpack.

I close my eyes and try to sleep again, but I can't. It's that awful in-between of being completely exhausted, but at the same time being in too much of a state to be able to drift off. I'm just floating in agonising not-pain and wishing there was anything I could do to pass the time.

Finally, _finally_ my surgeon arrives. He tries to engage me in small talk while he checks my chart and my monitors and my wounds, and after several endless minutes he pronounces me fit to go home. He leaves after giving Penny a laundry list of dos and don'ts for aftercare, instructions to follow up with Dr Wellbelove in a week, and a prescription for morphine tabs to pick up on our way out.

I'm so relieved I feel like crying, but I don’t, not quite. The nurse helps me to sit up, and she removes the thing on my finger, then my IV, and patches up the side of my wrist with a gauze pad and paper tape. Once that's finished, she gets me on my feet. My legs feel like wet noodles, but I manage to hold myself up, and she steadies my elbow while we take a turn around the little curtained enclosure. It seems like it takes a long time, but I've gone literally nowhere, so my sense of time must be off.

Penny's going through my packet of discharge instructions with an intense look on her face, like she always has when she's trying to learn something quickly. Baz gets my clothes out of my bag and helps me dress; I'm a little embarrassed that I apparently _need_ help, but I'm grateful for it all the same, and if it has to be anyone at least it's him. And after the day I've had I don't even care that I'm half naked in front of everyone while I'm changing, and it's not like Penny's paying attention anyway.

Baz wears my backpack as we leave, and I cling to his elbow, Penny on my other side with her nose now stuck in the packet of information that came with my painkillers. "Instructions say you can eat as soon as you want," she says. "Not too much at first, and bland, but you can eat, and these are supposed to be taken with food. Though I don't know if you'll really need them, since we've got magic. Are you hungry, though? Do you want to stop for something?"

I am hungry, a bit, but I'm so wiped out I can't contemplate actually eating. "No. Not yet. I just want to get home."

She and Baz exchange a glance, and although I don't watch them closely I know what they're thinking: _Simon refusing food? Highly unusual!_

And I guess it is, but this whole day is highly unusual. I don't care about what I usually want, only what I want right now, which is to be in my own bed.

The cab ride is intensely awkward, since I'm not really supposed to lean on my back at all yet and I spend the entire ride leaned forward, but it's not far. Climbing the stairs to the flat is tough, though; the fatigue is really getting to me now. But somehow I make it without being carried. While that's a point for my dignity, by the time I get through the door I don't give a shit about my dignity, because the noodle legs are back and the only thing in the world that matters is lying down.

Baz manages to get me out of my jeans before I pass out on my face in my own bed.

  


***

  


"Should we order something in? It's starting to get late." _Baz's voice sounds muffled, far away..._

"I don't know. I don't want to disturb him. He obviously needs the sleep." _Penny is far away too._

"He does, but he needs to eat, and so do we."

"I can throw something together when he wakes up."

A familiar Baz scoff. "Come on, Bunce, after the day we've had, we deserve takeaway."

It takes me a while to realise I'm awake and listening to a conversation from the next room, and that it's not part of the bewildering and completely opaque dream I was just having that I now can't remember at all.

Food sounds _amazing_. I'm still not completely sure of myself but I know I'm hungry.

I push myself up to a sitting position, and it's not nearly as hard as it was last time. I'm just in my pants and a tee, and I remember to pull on pyjama bottoms before I step out into the sitting room.

Penny and Baz are both on the couch, and their conversation stops the moment I appear. Penny leaps to her feet. "Simon, take it easy--"

"I'm fine," I say, and I mean it; I feel a lot better than I did before. Well, maybe not actually _fine,_ but.

Baz is now beside me too, and he takes my elbow. "Come sit down," he says gently, guiding me towards the couch. "You hungry?"

"Starving," I say. "You were just talking about ordering in?"

"Yeah," he says, and glances at Penny.

She grabs her phone off the coffee table. "What do you want?" she asks. "We didn't know what to get."

I sit on the couch, and instead of leaning back on the cushions lean forward with my knees on my elbows. Baz sinks down beside me. "I don't know. Whatever."

"You're no help at all," she mumbles, opening something on her phone. "How about Japanese? There's that one place that does great noodles."

"I'd eat noodles," I say. "They're quick too, I think."

She's tapping away on her phone. "Basil, what do you want?"

"Is this the one that does teriyaki bowls?"

She scrolls for a couple of seconds. "Yeah. Beef?"

"Please. Are you getting miso soup too?"

"Yeah, and edamame."

"Don't bother with those," I say, "I think I have some in the freezer."

Penny seems surprised by that. "When did you buy those?"

"Dunno," I shrug. "Like a month ago? I don't remember. But I know they were only two quid so I figured I'd try them, but I hadn't got to it yet."

"Oh, okay. Baz, do you want to look and make sure we actually do have them?"

"I'm sure we do," I say, but he gets up anyway and crosses into the kitchen.

"I expect they're buried?" he says, opening the freezer and starting to rummage through it.

"I put them with the peas."

"You say that like I know where the peas are."

I heave a frustrated sigh as I stand up again, and I stomp a little while I walk over to him. "Get out of my freezer, arsehole."

He frowns at me, but backs up. "I'm just trying to help."

"I don't _need_ that much help." I know exactly where the edamame beans are, and I pull them out and drop them on the counter, then push the freezer shut. "Fuck's sake, Baz, it was hours ago, I'm fine now."

"You're not! You're white as a sheet." He grabs my arm, and it's only then that I realise I was tipping over sideways. "Crowley, Simon, sit _down_. You're still coming out of the damned anaesthesia."

He sits me in a kitchen chair, and I go down harder than I intend to. It jostles my bones, sends a throb of pain through the new wounds on my back. Now I _do_ feel light-headed, and a bit sick. Baz keeps his hand on my arm while I lean forward and put my head between my knees for a few slow breaths until the feeling passes.

"Shit, are you okay?" Penny says, and I hear her stepping across the creaky spot on the floor.

"Fine," I mumble, pushing myself up on my elbows. "I mean, not fine, exactly." I'm slurring a little; I pause and collect myself. "I'm okay. I'm going to stay sitting, though."

"I think that's wise," Penny says, and Baz snorts.

"No shit. Bunce, you order that food. I'll zap these edamame and we can get something in this one in the meantime."

"Zap like magic?" I say. "Or in the micro?"

He picks up the bag and glances over the instructions. "Microwave is easy enough. And we know how it'll turn out." He takes the corner in his teeth and rips it open.

"Get the green bowl," I say. "It's in the--"

He turns to me, an annoyed look on his face. "Do you ever turn off? Is that even possible?"

I'm stunned speechless for a moment. "What?"

"Look, I know you're a chef or whatever and this is _your_ kitchen, but I know where your stuff is, okay? I do the washing up enough. I can microwave beans without help."

"I just--"

"I know you _just_ ," he snaps. "Let me _do_ this, okay?" He pulls open the cabinet and gets out the green bowl -- apparently he does know where I keep it.

I keep my mouth shut while I watch him pour half the beans into the bowl, then he sprinkles in a bit of water and covers them with a plate before putting them in the microwave and starting it. He twists the bag shut and tosses it back in the freezer. I don't say anything about it not being sealed.

We're all quiet for a bit, me on the chair, Penny hovering somewhere behind me, and Baz with his arms crossed and his lips pursed, leaning against the counter.

Finally Penny clears her throat. "I've got the order in, it says it'll be half an hour. Basil, you owe me twelve pounds."

He rolls his eyes, and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. "I've only got a ten and a five. You can keep the extra three."

"Thanks." She takes the banknotes, and disappears into her bedroom.

Baz stays where he is, still not looking at me. I try to breathe deeply, and in doing so I uncover that I am actually tired, I'm _exhausted_ , and my whole body feels like dead weight. I didn't expect to be so knocked down by the surgery. And now that I'm thinking about my body, I'm starting to feel my wings again, a heavy aching, a need to stretch. I think about trying to move them, to shake them, but it doesn't work, it feels like they're paralysed. Then along with that comes an old familiar sensation, the anxious tightening of my chest, a feeling like it's difficult to breathe and swallow.

I put my face in my hands, and I can hear Baz shift his weight. "Simon? You okay?"

I groan. "Not exactly."

"What is it?"

"I'm tired all over and my wings ache."

The microwave beeps.

There's a heavy pause. "Simon..."

"Don't _fucking_ _say it,_ " I beg, rubbing my eyes. "I know, I _know!_ They're gone now, I've got phantom limb. I know that every time I say it, but it doesn't stop me feeling it."

He doesn't say anything, but I hear him take the bowl out of the microwave, and then Penny comes back. "Those edamame ready?"

"Yeah." Baz pulls his wand out of his pocket and levitates the bowl over to the table. "They're hot, though."

From where I'm sitting I can reach my cellar of kosher salt on the counter, so I grab that and dress the beans once they're down on the table and the cover is off. They're piping hot, too much so to even touch, but I really am hungry and waiting is difficult.

But wait I must, if I want to keep my fingertips as they are. And since I'm down three limbs since yesterday, I do think I want to keep the remaining ones.

Baz is the first to reach for the edamame -- he must be much hungrier than he's letting on. He sits down in the chair to my right, and lifts one gingerly, pinched between thumb and forefinger. He blows on it for a minute while Penny and I watch, and then pops it in his mouth and starts chewing the beans out.

He drops the empty pod on the plate when he's done, and raises his eyebrows at us. "What're you looking at?"

"Waiting for you to burst into flame," Penny says. "Not too hot?"

"Yeah, but not _too_ too hot." He shrugs and takes another one.

And that's apparently my tipping point: he can't have two when I haven't had any. So I grab one, and it is pretty hot, but not so hot that I regret putting it in my mouth.

It's perfect. Salty and wet and just a little of that green soybean flavour that's really just a background to the salt, but it's savoury and wonderful and I lose myself in it a little. _Food._ Eating! After nearly twenty-four hours of nil-by-mouth it's heaven, and before I know it there's a pile of empty pods and Penny is going down to the street to meet the delivery person.

We eat at the table, and the noodles are even better than the edamame, starchy and saucy and delicious. When we're done I take one of my morphine tablets (because even though I'm feeling better overall, the pain is actually a bit worse), and then Penny takes my chair over by the couch, since I can sit in it without leaning on my wounds. We watch something mindless on the telly for a while, until I start falling asleep again, and Baz bundles me off to bed.

  


***

  


I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of Baz crying.

I'm lying on my side, and he's spooned up right behind me, like he never could until now, his arm wrapped around my chest. It's an odd sensation, not having my wings between us. The length of his body is pressed against me, from shoulders to mid-thigh, cool and solid except for the trembling.

I shift and twist a little, trying to roll onto my back -- I'm not supposed to lie on my back, until my incisions have healed, but I need to find out what's happening. "Baz?"

A sob escapes him, louder, and his arm tightens, he presses his face into the back of my neck. "I'm okay," he whispers. "It's nothing."

"Baz, come on." I'm awake enough now that I can figure out how to roll over and put my arms around him. "You can tell me. What is it?"

He curls into a ball and tucks his head under my chin. "It's nothing, I'm fine." He'd be a lot more convincing if he wasn't still crying.

At a loss for anything else to do, I pull him into my chest. He weeps even more freely, gasping and sobbing and clutching at the front of my t-shirt. I really have no idea what to do, so I just hold him, rub his shoulders and back in a way that I hope is comforting.

After a while he calms down, he starts controlling his breathing, and he finally picks his head up, unfolds.

"Okay?" I murmur.

He nods and sniffles. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry."

"It's all right." I take his hand and hold it against my chest. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He sighs. "I just ... I'm so relieved you're all right."

"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Surgery's not without risks." He takes a deep, shaking breath. "And you had an adverse reaction, you weren't breathing well after."

I hold him more tightly. "I'm fine, though."

"You are now. But I was worried, Simon, I was _so_ _worried._ Not just today, but for weeks, I was so frightened that something would go wrong."

"But it's over now, I'm okay."

"I know." His voice breaks. "I know. And I'll be okay too, I just ... I haven't let myself be afraid at all. It came out all of a sudden."

"It's all right. You're allowed to cry."

He leans his forehead against mine and breathes deeply, carefully. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Technically I didn't see anything," I say gently. "Too dark."

He huffs a little laugh. "Technically."

"Yeah." I kiss him; his face is wet, and my heart breaks a little. "You doing okay now?"

"Yeah, I'm okay now."

"Good." I kiss him again, and he leans into me. "I have to go back to sleep," I whisper. "Still really tired."

"Okay." He gives me one more lingering kiss. "Sleep. I'll be right here."

  


***

  


I don't know what time it is when I wake up, but the sun is bright and Baz's side of the bed is cool. My head feels heavy and fuzzy, so I figure it's only been a couple of hours since I woke up with agonising phantom pain and had that pill. Opiates are, it turns out, pretty unpleasant, even though they do take care of the pain quite effectively. I guess being high isn't for me. I might actually ask Penny about casting something for me instead of taking the rest of those.

It takes me a bit to get upright, and for a moment I dread getting into my dressing gown while I'm stoned -- and then I remember I don't have to wrangle my wings into _anything_ ever again. The relief is overwhelming, and I stand there for a minute in the middle of the room, leaning on my bedside table and just letting the tears fall.

Once the emotion wanes, I wipe my face with the bottom of my shirt. My robe is on the hook on the back of the door, and I shrug into it before I pull the door open.

Penny and Baz are both at the table, hunched over ... playing cards? Some kind of wooden board? Baz has one hand twisted in his hair, and Penny is pointing at cards on the table, saying something that clearly makes sense to her but is gibberish to me, and seems to be confusing Baz as well.

"Double run of three is _eight_ points, Basil."

"But each card in each run is only one point, where's the other two?"

"The pair. Oh, and you've got nobs as well, that's an extra point."

"Wait, I've got what?"

Penny looks up at me suddenly. "Simon!"

Baz turns, and his face lights up. "You're awake."

"Yeah, barely." My voice is rough, but they both smile at me. I gesture behind me at the bathroom. "I'll be a minute."

"Okay," Penny says. "You want breakfast? Tea?"

"Yes to both." I give her the best smile I can before I push the door shut behind me.

I wash my face while I'm in the bathroom, and it feels amazing, getting even just a little of the grime of the past twenty-four hours off myself. I've been feeling a little nauseated -- from the drugs, I'm sure, and from taking them on an empty stomach -- and the cool water on my skin does wonders for that, too. I think I'm ready to face a cup of tea and something to eat.

Penny's just pouring the boiling water into my mug when I come back out, and Baz is still sat at the table, though he's pushed the cards and the board off to the side. "How are you feeling?" he asks as I sit down.

"Okay," I say. "Kinda stoned. I woke up and had a pill a few hours ago."

"You were in pain?"

"Yeah. Phantom pain, it was the wings again."

He shoots a worried glance at Penny as she sets the mug in front of me, and then she leans on the back of our third chair. "How bad is it?" she asks.

"It's not right now." I hold the mug between my hands, enjoying the warmth. Penny's already put milk in, how I like it, but it needs to steep more before I drink it. "When I'm drugged I can't feel them at all. But before it was pretty bad, they were cramping something awful."

Baz makes a sad noise and crosses his legs, leans his elbow on the table and his shoulder against the wall. He looks exhausted. "I hope that stops soon," he says. "As far as my Googling has found, there isn't a cure for phantom limb pain, you just have to hope it gets better on its own."

"I'm sure it will," I say, though I'm not sure at all, and I regret saying it as soon as it's out of my mouth. It does seem to reassure him a bit, though it's obvious from Penny's expression that she doesn't believe me. I decide to try changing the subject. "So what's this you were playing just now?"

Baz groans melodramatically, and Penny grins. "It's called cribbage," she says. "Card game. The board is for keeping score. I learned it from Micah yonks ago, and I keep meaning to teach you lot but never have."

"Until now," Baz says. "You've _tried_ teaching me, anyway. It's complicated."

"It's not _that_ complicated, you're just impaired right now." He scowls at her, and she waves a dismissive hand. "I'll teach you soon, Simon. With you stoned and Baz sleep-deprived, you ought to be pretty evenly matched."

"Haven't you been sleeping?" I say. I mean, I knew he was stressed out, but the way she said it it sounded like more than that.

He scrubs his hand over his face, and Penny turns back into the kitchen. "It's not that bad," Baz says, but it's hard to believe him. "I didn't sleep great last night, and you know I didn't at all the night before. And ... well, the last week wasn't very good either."

"Darling," I murmur; I put my hand on his and he closes his eyes.

"I'll be fine," he sighs. "It's just stress. It'll get better soon enough."

"Simon," Penny interrupts, "what do you want for breakfast?"

My stomach is a bit upset again, and breakfast doesn't really sound appetising, though I think getting something in me will help. "I don't know. What did you have?"

She shrugs. "Weetabix."

"That'll be fine."

"Anything else? We've got strawberries."

"Just one and a little milk."

"Only one?"

"To start. The morphine's fucking with me so I'm going to take it easy."

Sadness passes across Penny's face, but she turns to the cupboard to get down the box of cereal and a bowl for me. Baz covers my hand with his, and I turn back to him. "Feeling sick?"

I nod. "Just a bit. I think food will help."

"Probably."

"The literature that came with it said it's best to take them with food," Penny says, setting the bowl in front of me before she grabs the milk from the fridge and puts it on the table. I don't usually eat just one, but I feel like I want it soggy today, so I don't try to be careful with the milk, and then I break it up with my spoon.

I try to ignore Baz and Penny both watching me when I take my first bite. I'm relieved to find I like it, and once I've got a couple bites in me I find my stomach is even settling a little. "You can both stop staring," I say, mashing it around in the bowl. "I'm not going to go Mr Creosote or anything."

Baz gives me a smile, and Penny snorts a laugh as she sits down and grabs the deck of cards. "Let's keep playing, Basil, see if Simon can figure it out from watching."

Baz sighs and rolls his eyes. "You're about to win anyway, why don't you just deal Simon in and we'll start over? I feel like I could use it explained to me again."

"Oh, all right. It is a tiny bit different with three, though."

"I'm not married to the two-player version," he says drily.

"Fair enough." She flourishes her ring hand and taps it on the board, casting **_Three of a kind for six_** , at which the board stretches sideways to add a third track beside the other two, and another pair of pegs appears, yellow adding to the red and blue already there. Baz moves all of the pegs to the start of the track.

"Wow," I say, and Penny grins at me as she shuffles the cards.

"Normals have to come up with weird ways to keep score if they don't have a three-track board."

"I'm sure they do."

"Now the main difference with three," she says, "is that you only get five cards to start, and dealer deals one to the crib immediately. Pegging and showing is all the same, though the dynamic of pegging feels different since it's not just back and forth."

" _Pegging?_ " I say.

Baz smirks, and Penny rolls her eyes. "The first stage of each hand is called pegging because you take points as you go and move your pegs up."

"Of course it is."

Penny ignores this and explains the gameplay, and although Baz still seems a bit overwhelmed, it makes pretty good sense to me. It'll take me a bit to memorise all the different combinations that score, but I feel solid enough when she deals the first hand. We play through slowly, and she coaches both of us on calling out the points -- apparently there's a particular way this is done, which must be why that spell of hers works so well, if everybody says things the same way. When we're finished I'm just a couple of points behind her, and Baz is still halfway back from me. But then she scores her crib -- the extra hand of cards we all set aside at the beginning. "Ooh, thank you, boys. Fifteen two four six and a pair for eight."

I get another two Weetabix before it's my turn to deal, and finish them by the end of the hand. I've pulled into the lead now, and Baz is still pretty far back, but not falling much farther behind.

The game doesn't take that long, and I find it thoroughly engrossing, to the point that I nearly forget about my tea, and I've only finished half of it by the time I make it to 121 points, ten ahead of Penny, and Baz's peg is way back, behind a line marked with an S.

He points to it. "What's that?"

"The skunk line, ninety-one points," Penny explains. "Simon skunked you. In tournaments he'd get an extra game for that."

"Well, shit."

I bump his knee with mine under the table, and he gives me a private smile.

"That was quite impressive, Simon," Penny says. "You sure picked it up quickly."

"It's just numbers," I shrug. "Plus, since I'm high right now the fifteens are, like, shimmering? Makes it really easy if I arrange my hand the right way."

"That's kind of fucked up," Baz says.

"Yeah, but it's working. Silver lining?"

He looks at me sadly. "Is it really that bad? The morphine?"

"I'd really rather not think about it, okay?"

He frowns and looks down at his hands. "Okay."

Penny points at my bowl. "You done with that?"

"Yeah, thanks."

She takes it away, and Baz clears his throat. "Did you have any plans for today?"

I sigh. "Not really. Therapy a bit later. And I was hoping to have a shower, though that'll be hard since I'm not supposed to get my stuff wet. I feel really gross."

"You can wash off with a flannel. I'd help with your back."

He looks very earnest, and it softens my heart. "Really, you would?"

"Don't make me say it again. Not in front of Bunce."

"If it helps," she says from the sink, "I can't hear you when you're being mushy."

I laugh, and Baz ducks his chin to hide his smile. Penny's too good for both of us.

  


***

  


Baz helps me clean myself up a little bit after breakfast, and then we watch some kind of Netflix original anime about a giant robot until it's time for my Skype session with Jeri. I've been kind of dreading it -- all the baggage I've got used to with my wings and tail is totally different now, and I was coping well enough with ignoring it. I don't want to deal with it, even though I know I have to.

Therapy goes well enough. We don't get that much into it, but I know a part of that is because I am actually still drugged so I'm not in the best state for this right now. But we do a little work, and it's absolutely fucking exhausting.

Baz and Penny get back from their grocery outing exactly as I'm disconnecting the call, and I'm sure they were watching the clock, giving me the precise amount of privacy I needed. Penny suggests lunch, but I'm too tired, my whole body aches. I just want to sleep.

Baz joins me in bed. I feel a little better, with him beside me. He holds my hands while I fall asleep.

  


***

  


The week could have passed in an opiate haze, except that after that first day I decided I’d had quite enough of that, and let Penny and Baz have at me with their wands instead.  Which was … only moderately effective.  It took care of the physical pain, what little there was, some mild bruising around the surgical sites and general achiness.  But the phantom pain was more recalcitrant, the spells only took the edge off, made it bearable.  I still felt like the wings and tail were there, sometimes.  Not always, but more than I would have liked.  Nonzero.

I guess I’m lucky that the sensations did fade, and fairly quickly.  Maybe the healing spells helped out with the nerve damage that causes phantom limb syndrome, I don’t know.  That’s what Penny thinks, anyway.

At any rate, Wednesday afternoon comes quickly enough, since I’ve spent a lot of time sleeping.  Baz has to work, so Penny is the one who takes me to see Dr Wellbelove.  It’s a few days earlier than my instructions said, but everyone is apparently very certain that magickal healing means it won’t take me as long to close up my wounds.

This does seem to be the case, and Dr Wellbelove tells me that I’m healing brilliantly, then cuts and pulls out the remaining stitches.  “There you go, all set.”

I twist to try to see.  “That’s it?”

“That’s it.  Just call me if there’s any pain or swelling, at the sites, could be a sign of infection.  But other than that, you’re done.”

“Wow.”

Penny hands me my shirt with a smile.  “Get dressed and let’s go see your boyfriend.”

Dr Wellbelove has his back to us putting things away, so I don’t see his reaction to Penny talking about Baz like that.  I don’t know if it’s still awkward between me and him about the Agatha thing, even though it’s been three years now.  I’ve never wanted to find out.  I mean, obviously he knows that Baz and I are together, that’s completely unavoidable.  I just try not to bring it up.

Baz’s Costa is pretty busy when we arrive in mid-afternoon, and it takes us a minute to find him -- he comes out of the back with two big jugs of milk and says something to one of the other baristas with a roll of his eyes, then replaces another one on the register and takes an order with a bored look on his face.

I get a fluttery feeling in my stomach knowing that he hasn’t noticed us yet; I’ve never surprised him at work before.

Penny gives me a little shove.  “Let’s go order.”

It doesn’t take long for us to get to the front of the queue, and Baz does a double take.  “Simon!”

“In the flesh.”  I grin at him, and he gets a shy smile on his face.

“I didn’t think you’d be done so soon.”

“It was a quick appointment.”

He glances behind me, and I know he’s checking out the queue behind us.  “I’d love to stay and flirt but I’m supposed to be doing my job.  Are you guys getting coffee?”

“Yes,” Penny says.  “Cappuccino.”

He taps it into the register, and then grabs a cup and writes on it before he glances up at me.  “The usual for you?”

“Yeah.”

He rolls his eyes while he writes on my cup.  “You’re both so dull.  Someday I’ll get you to try something with flavours.”

“Coffee is a flavour,” Penny says.  “One that I like.”

“Sure, whatever.”

I pull out my wallet and pay him.  “I don’t have to tip you, do I?”

He gets a wicked look on his face, but it quickly dissolves into a grimace.  “God, Snow, don’t do that to me when I’m at work.  They’d fire me if I said what I just thought.”

Penny laughs.  “Serves you right, Pitch.”  She takes my arm and leads me down the bar, and Baz watches after us for a moment with a little glare before he turns to his next customer.

Our coffee doesn’t take long, and the barista seems confused when she calls for “sidekick” and “the chosen one.”  Baz is trying not to laugh.

There’s a single armchair free in the shop, and Penny and I both cram ourselves into it.  Baz isn’t done here for an hour yet, but I’ve got a hot Americano in my hands, my best friend by my side, and a distraction machine in my pocket if I want it.  Penny’s already got hers out and is scrolling through something.

I take a sip of coffee and watch Baz interacting with customers.  It’s not something I’d ever have believed, if I hadn’t seen it.  He’s good with them, even though he kind of acts like he doesn’t want to be, and I’m not surprised when a pair of girls who are a couple years younger than him get giggly after he gives them a hint of a smile.

He glances over at me once they step away, and his expression softens into something genuine, something that’s just for me.  I smile at him, and he turns back to the queue.

This is really quite pleasant, just sitting here in the crowd, watching him work.  And now, I can surprise him like this whenever I want -- the world is finally open to me.  It’s unexpected, this feeling of lightness, of freedom.  I could get used to it.


End file.
